


Brick by Brick

by Tigerion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape, Blood Loss, Cold, Derek Feels, Derek Has Feelings, Electricity, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Gore, Guilt, Lost and Found, M/M, Mental Torture, Physical Torture, Pre-Slash, Protective Derek, Protective Stiles, Protective!Derek, Protective!Stiles, Rape, Rated For Violence, Werewolf Hunters, emotional aftermath, exposed organs, snuggles, tormented!Stiles, tortured!derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigerion/pseuds/Tigerion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He squinted as the hands disappeared, the snarl turning into a whine as the creature in the cell cowered in the back. <em>Expecting pain</em>.</p><p>The realization sent bile up his throat and he swallowed thickly. "I'm not here to hurt you," the words poured out as he tried to calm the werewolf down. Yellow eyes glared back at him, mistrust shining in their depths. "I'm looking for a friend of mine, he's here but I'm not sure <em>where</em>." His voice cracked and he paused, checking his emotions. "He's been here for a while. Looks like he's eternally broody?"</p><p>The omega stood, limbs straightening as something flashed through its yellow eyes. "<em>The</em> Alpha." The words were grumbled out harshly.</p><p>Stiles shifted, "The Alpha?"</p><p>The creature nodded, a low hum of approval filling the silence. The woman ambled forward, claws gripping the bars that enclosed her, "The Hale Alpha."</p><p>"Where is he?" The teen scooted closer, a desperate edge to his voice. The omega opened her mouth, as if to reply, before casting a frantic glance in his direction. Brown eyes narrowed at the sudden change in her mood, "Wh-?" The question fell short as something struck the back of his skull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll Show You My Skeletons

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated mature for a reason and there is a copious amount of whumpage in this fanfiction.  
>  ~~You have been warned.~~
>
>>   
> **Song:** _Skeletons_  
>  **Artist:** _Papa Roach_  
> 

>   
>  I can see myself in a broken reflection ( _and I'm not ok_ )  
>  It just magnifies my imperfections ( _and I'm not ok_ )  
> 

_The code was a lie that the hunters had invented to make themselves believe that they had morals,_ the teen paused, a hand splayed against the wall of the old prison. Hunters didn't give a damn as to who was caught in the crossfire between themselves and the supernatural, at least, not for the most part. He could count on one hand how many of the self proclaimed guardians of the mundane actually stuck to the rules. There were times when Stiles wondered if hunters were even needed, as so far it had been the werewolves that kept fixing every problem. Not that they got any thanks for it.

He frowned, body tensed as the sound of footsteps clattered up the corridor. The men were talking about something, but they weren't close enough for Stiles to understand what they were saying. _Stupid human hearing_. Fingers curled into a fist as he found himself questioning his decision to reject the bite of an alpha. Peter had been the first to offer and there was no way in hell that Stiles would ever accept it from him. The man was psychotic nut. 

The footsteps drew away, leaving the dark hallway silent. Derek had offered several times to turn the teen, eyes sincere and voice concerned. The offer was only ever voiced when Stiles was in pain, guilt lacing the wavering tone of the alpha as the man sat beside him helplessly. Each time he refused, shaking his head with a quiet, _no_. It wasn't that he despised werewolves but he liked being human. He liked not having to worry about losing control of his anger while playing a sport. _Albeit, the boost in athleticism would help_. He scowled at the voice and waved his hand as if he could dismiss it. _One of the few perks_ , he countered sharply as he scooted around a puddle.

>   
>  Beaten down and I'm crawling, I'm craving  
>  Affection, afraid of rejection  
>  Comfort in violence  
>  Suffer in silence  
>  Lost in self deception  
>  Is there no salvation?  
> 

The werewolf heaved a sigh, his hope had long since faded into nothing. The small window at the top of the cell allowed him to distinguish night from day, and at first he had been relieved to at least get to glimpse the sky. For the first week of his imprisonment he had been chained to the wall, all enraged eyes and gnashing teeth. They hadn't dared set foot in the cell, instead they slunk around outside of it and opted to flip the switch that controlled the electricity. They wore him down over time, only supplying the bare minimal amount of food and water needed for survival. Usually the meat was raw and ice cold.

It was early in the second week that they had decided that he wasn't as much of a threat. The chains were loosened, the slack letting him slump against the stone wall in between sessions. _Where is it?_ The question was screamed and hissed at him and each time he didn't answer. Even if he had wanted to, he _couldn't_ give them a reply. He didn't know where _it_ was much less what the thing was. 

In the third week they had moved him to a different part of the prison. Here everything dripped, and over time he realized that he had been moved underground. The window kept him from losing his resolve, constantly gazing out if it in the hopes of seeing the sun or the moon. _It was soundproof_ , they had explained it to him in detail as they poured molten mercury over his right hand. _It would heal_ , they had sneered as they dumped him back in the cell, watching coldly as he writhed when the injured limb came into contact with the water that lay stagnant in the bottom of the cell.

It had taken him nearly two weeks to heal his hand, the process excruciatingly slow as the flesh struggled to pull itself together. Moving the fingers in that hand was still proving to be a challenge. The hunters had been considerate enough to supply a large amount of food during the process. _Didn't want their plaything to die._ The thought was exhausted as Derek Hale shifted. During those two weeks he'd been kept company by another alpha. She would speak to him at times, voice barely rasping above a whisper. She had died yesterday and he could do nothing but watch with fury as they dismantled her body. When they had come to move him to the cell she had been occupying he had met them with fangs and claws extended. Savage pleasure had swept through him when he felt flesh yield under his jaws and he heard the life gurgle from the man. It had been worth the beating he received afterwards. 

The hunters weren't close to each other, the methodical way that they had used to dispose of the dying man had told him that. A silver bullet to the forehead had been utilized to make sure the man stayed dead. The smell of charred flesh caused by the burning of the body was still stuck in his nose. Derek shifted, a soft whine escaping through the gag as his back reminded him that moving was not a good idea. Water sloshed lazily as a result of the movement and the werewolf shivered when the frigid liquid made contact with the open wound in his back. This cell had been made for the specially for troublesome werewolves. It was split into two levels and while it was large, it offered little in terms of being able to move. 

They kept him in the second section. It was a foot deeper than the first and acted as a continuous shocking pool. The water was dark, no doubt contaminated with all kinds of hellish bacteria, and it was kept cold. It filled the entire foot that had been gouged out of the stone and served as a shallow in-ground tub of sorts. The shorts that he'd been supplied with were soaked through and plastered against his legs in a way that felt smothering. He shivered, skin tinged blue as he let his eyes slip shut and he embraced the darkness that sleep was offering him.

>   
>  Brick by brick I built this wall  
>  I shut you out to break the fall  
>  I will shed my sins  
>  I'll show you my skeletons  
> 

"It ripped Mark's throat out in the blink of an eye, why the hell are we keeping it alive?" The voice was angry as a fist pounded against a wooden table.

Stiles flinched, body pressed against the slick wall in the hallway. _Find Derek, get Derek, bring Derek home_ , the mantra chanted in his head while he listened for any clues that would lead him to the alpha. Worry twisted in his gut at the words, his brain automatically correcting the _it_ to _he_ and _him_. 

"We're keeping the damn thing alive because its an alpha." The voice was deep and sounded from the corner of the room. The other men fell silent, eyes turning to look at their leader. "We're keeping it alive because it's a _Hale_." The name was spat out with disdain.

Stiles felt his stomach sink, his sour wolf had killed one of the hunters. _Good,_ the voice in his head interjected swiftly, _bastard probably deserved it_. Another frown tugged at his lips, _when had he become so vindictive_? The teen shrank into the shadows as one of the men left the room, a notebook gripped tightly in his wiry fingers. Casting a nervous glance in the direction of the room, Stiles began to follow the man.

>   
>  One by one we cast our stones  
>  Flesh and blood and broken bones  
>  Burn away the sins  
>  We all have our skeletons  
>  We all have our skeletons  
> 

He was roused from the darkness at the sound of heavy feet, ears straining as he tried to gauge what level of pain he was about to endure by his assailant's heartbeat. The organ was pumping quickly and Derek closed his eyes again, jaw clenching as he waited. There was a click as one of the switches was flipped and a small sigh left the alpha when the water started to drain. It would be back, he knew better than to hope for a permanent lack of the substance. He twitched in anticipation as the door swung open, hinges creaking a loud protest.

Rough hands pulled at his body, dragging him to the first section of the cell. The man was breathing heavily as he attempted to lift the werewolf over the ridge that separated the levels of the cell. Derek remained still, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood when his back was jarred against the concrete. He must of flexed in an attempt to pull away because the air was suddenly filled with violent and bloody threats. The hands let go, white lines forming from where the fingers had been gripping, and a brief moment of panic rushed through him before his shoulders hit the ground. 

The pain flared through him and for a moment Derek forgot how to breath. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and his vision started to fade. His body panicked, lungs stuttering frantically as they remembered their function and sucked in as much air as they could. The alpha is damned sure that the desperate noise that echoed around the chamber emanated from someone else. 

Metal clicked around his wrists, a chain rattling as some kind of machinery pulled his arms up and over his head. Derek was vaguely aware of the low whine that left his throat when his spine straightened, the disks pressing against the nerve as if to remind him that they were out of place. The darkness beckoned, and the alpha obeyed its call.  
________________________________________________________________________________

The smell was sickening and grew stronger as Stiles crept further down the stairs. He spooked, heart hammering when clawed hands reached for him, a frenzied snarl leaving a desperate mouth. It took the teen a moment to realize that a cell had been constructed in the wall. He squinted as the hands disappeared, the snarl turning into a whine as the creature in the cell cowered in the back. _Expecting pain_. 

The realization sent bile up his throat and he swallowed thickly. "I'm not here to hurt you," the words poured out as he tried to calm the werewolf down. Yellow eyes glared back at him, mistrust shining in their depths. "Look, I don't expect you to believe me...." He trailed off, a hand running through his hair. "I'm looking for a friend of mine, he's here but I'm not sure _where_." His voice cracked and he paused, checking his emotions. "He's been here for a while. Looks like he's eternally broody?"

The omega stood, limbs straightening as something flashed through its yellow eyes. " _The_ Alpha." The words were grumbled out harshly. 

Stiles shifted, "The Alpha?"

The creature nodded, a low hum of approval filling the silence. The woman ambled forward, claws gripping the bars that enclosed her, "The Hale Alpha."

"Where is he?" The teen scooted closer, a desperate edge to his voice. The omega opened her mouth, as if to reply, before casting a frantic glance in his direction. Brown eyes narrowed at the sudden change in her mood, "Wh-?"

The question fell short as something struck the back of his skull.

>   
>  I have lost myself in my addictions ( _and I'm not ok_ )  
>  There's no faith in fear or self destruction ( _and I'm not ok_ )  
>  Falling out, falling down  
>  And I'm crawling to you to confess my intentions  
> 

Hazel eyes opened slowly, a parched tongue running over pearly whites as Derek dragged himself closer to awareness. There was a new smell, a _human smell_ and the alpha frowned. He scented the air, stomach twisting with despair as he connected the scent with a face. _Stiles_. There was fresh blood, and Derek felt a spark of protectiveness ignite in his chest, a low growl filtering through the air. He jerked violently, back roaring a protest as he attempted to break the chain that kept him upright.  
_____________________________  
It was the rattling of the chain that woke Stiles up, groggy and sore. He blinked, eyes adjusting to dim light and attempted to sit up a little straighter. Rope chafed against his arms and the teen stilled. He was seated across from a werewolf, the man hung suspended in the air by the wrists. _Derek?_

"Hey sour wolf," he mumbled the words, knowing that the alpha would be able to hear him. 

A throat cleared from behind him and Stiles jerked in surprise. "We were expecting _someone_ to eventually show up." Another set of chains rattled, the metal clanking miserably in the silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Derek stiffen. "We just thought that it would be someone... less then human." The sneer was meant to goad him and Stiles bit his lip. 

His chair was spun around, the sudden motion making him dizzy. The omega hung suspended, eyes wide and terrified. Stiles swallowed, _I'm sorry_. He tried to convey the message, guilt churning in his stomach.

"I have always admired the Vikings." A knife tapped against the bars of a cell as the man walked back over. "They were a truly innovative people, especially when it came to punishments."

Stiles licked his lips nervously, a cold sweat starting to form on his skin. "Good to know?" The usual confidence was absent and the teen cursed mentally when his voice wavered into a question. 

The man nodded, leering as he pressed the blade against the omega's back. "What's your name darling?" The whisper was cruel, hot breath whistling into the woman's ear.

She jerked in an effort to pull away before whispering, "Meagan."

The man hummed, "I'm Jeremy." He turned, eye staring at Stiles. "And you are?"

"Stiles." The name snapped out of him, full of rage and helplessness. 

"Today you'll be learning a history lesson, Stiles." The blade pierced the skin and dragged down to the omega's waist. Blood streamed out of the incision, snaking down the lithe back until it started to drip on the floor. "The Vikings were a people known for the mettle." Jeremy paused, glancing back at the teen. "You know what mettle means, right?" There was a small nod and the hunter hummed an approval. The knife slit to the side, and the skin flapped uselessly. "And there was one method of torture that they specialized in." 

Stiles tried to scoot back, the pool of blood was growing at an alarming rate as slender shoulder shuddered at every touch. _Meagan had helped him._ He felt bile start to rise in his throat and dimly heard a low growl rumble from behind him. _This was his fault, if she hadn't spoken she could have been left alone._ There was a sharp snap, bone splintering and that was what pushed Stiles over the edge. 

He gagged, torso leaning as far away from the chair as possible. The vomit splattered over his knees, soaking his pants with a warm wetness that sent his stomach into a fit. His torso shuddered, and he's pretty sure he's making weird choking noises. The ropes restricting his movements fell away, hitting the floor with a dull thud and Stiles lurched out of the wooden chair. His arms shook, body tensing when a hand rubbed his back. The heaves stopped, and Stiles sat up slowly. He kept his averted, even as a finger directed his head in the general direction of the omega.

"Its called the Blood Eagle, and I'm going to teach you how to do it." The man returned to the woman, hands reaching inside with a metal tool clasped in them. There was another snap and Stiles didn't even try to hide his flinch.

>   
>  Suffer the violence  
>  Comfort in silence  
>  Lost in self deception  
>  Is there no salvation?  
> 

An amused snort left Jeremy as he turned and found Stiles pressing up against the alpha's legs. "We won't be using him right now." He waved a bloody hand, and the excess liquid was flung from the wiry fingers. It hit the ground with a wet splatter. A snarl of disgust lit up his face at the way the kid tried to block his path to the werewolf. "Relax, I'm just letting him down." Brown eyes watched him warily, body shifting until the teen was ready to support the alpha. The restraints clicked open and the alpha slumped.

Derek's weight almost knocked him over and Stiles grunted, staggering back a few steps before lowering the older man to the ground. "Hey sour wolf," the words babbled out of him, hands fluttering over the muscular body. "I'm here now," he swallowed thickly, emotion clogging his voice as Derek leaned into his touch. Muscles were shivering nervously as the teenager felt for internal injuries. The alpha shifted, a hand gripping Stiles' arm, _no_.

He'd forgotten that Jeremy was in the room until there was a resounding snap. Another snap and another whimper as the omega twitched. _I'm sorry_ , the apology was burning at the tip of his tongue. Stiles lifted his head as the hunter demanded his attention and Derek squeezed his arm hard enough to elicit a surprised yelp. 

Hazel eyes were narrowed, _Don't look. Stiles, don't look. I don't want you to see that._ The message didn't need to be spoken. 

"I know, but I don't have a choice." The murmur was weak, "I don't want...." _I don't want him to take out my disobedience on you._ The werewolf huffed, large hand seeking his in a gesture of support. Stiles didn't hesitate to interlock fingers, grip tightening as he obeyed Jeremy's request. 

The omega was still and Stiles shuddered when he realized that he could see her lungs. They were filling and deflating weakly, periodically stuttering before they finally stopped. Stiles let his gaze lower, eyes wet as he tried to blink away the sorrow. "I'm sorry." The whisper was broken and he felt Derek's hand squeeze his gently. 

"Alright Stiles, I hope you took notes on that history lesson." Jeremy tapped one of the ribs, watching with disinterest as the bone clattered to the ground. He lifted the boy by the hood of his sweatshirt, ignoring the warning growl from the alpha, and dragged him closer to the omega's inert body. "Because you'll be graduating in the morning."

>   
>  Brick by brick I built this wall  
>  I shut you out to break the fall  
>  I will shed my sins  
>  I'll show you my skeletons  
> 

"I killed her." The mumble was broken as Stiles stared at the suspended body. The alpha pressed against him and the teenager turned, burying his face in Derek's shoulder. The werewolf stiffened at the sudden movement and the human whispered a soft apology. The chest vibrated, a low growl sounding from its depths.

"Its not your fault." The statement was adamant and the strong arms pulled him closer. 

The alpha was warm and Stiles snuggled closer. "Its good to see you again Derek, we've been worried about you."

"We've?" The confusion that laced the tone made the boy wilt a little. The werewolf hadn't expected them to care. 

"Yes, _we_." He pulled away, whiskey sought hazel until their orbs locked. "I don't think any of us have gotten a good sleep since you went missing." The hazel softened and Stiles saw the wall slowly being torn down. "I've been using my puny human powers to try to pinpoint a possible location for over a month now." He shivered, the chill seeming to sink into his bones. He frowned when Derek moved away and clambered to his feet with a pinched expression.

"What are you doi-?" For the second time in one night his question is cut short. A large wolf blinked at him, eyes glowing a brilliant blue and _holy shit, when had Derek learned to do that_? He stirred, limbs moving slowly as he began to sit up before freezing when a large paw placed itself on his chest. He nodded, reaction delayed before sighing in contentment as warm fur surrounded him. 

_Sleep,_ blue eyes blinked lazily at him as the shivers began to subside. 

Stiles sighed, a hand curling in the thick black fur before his eyes slipped shut.  
__________________________________________________

He only managed to get a few hours of sleep before he jolted awake, breathing harshly as he tried to shake the images out of his head. He swallowed before sitting up, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. _What the hell?_ It was soft and a pale green, the fabric smelled like mistletoe. _Mistletoe_ , his eyes widened in alarm and he cast a frantic glance around the cell. Derek was curled against one of the walls, all smooth skin and deep breaths. It took Stiles a moment to realize that the alpha was sleeping, that the previously warped back was smooth, the bone healed. 

Twisting, he pulled out his cell phone. The signal was low, but it was there and Stiles dialed Deaton's number, voice low and frantic as he explained their situation.

>   
>  One by one we cast our stones  
>  Flesh and blood and broken bones  
>  Burn away the sins  
>  We all have our skeletons  
> 

Rough hands hoisted him to his feet and Stiles spluttered a protest, shaking his head in an effort to clear it. Derek stood in the middle of the chamber, expression concerned. The alpha rumbled something and Jeremy nodded, stepping back. The hand that gripped his arm released him with a shove, and the teen stumbled forward a few steps. His phone buzzed in his pocket, _message received_. Maybe he could stall, take his time just long enough for help to arrive.

A knife was pressed into his fingers and Stiles swallowed thickly. He approached the werewolf, cheek pressing up against a smooth abdomen as a shudder ripped through his body. Derek didn't move and Stiles was pretty sure that it was only because he couldn't. "It'll be fine." The alpha's voice was soft and disturbingly calm.

 _What the hell?_ Stiles glared up at the older man. "How the fuck is any of this alright?"

Hazel eyes drifted to the cracked window before he sucked in a huge breath and roared. The sound rattled every bone in the kid's body and the distinct sound of shattering glass tinkled in the background. _Because they can hear us now._

Stiles felt his stomach drop as he realized that the alpha planned on using his own pain to signal their location to the others. His hand shook as he stepped around Derek. "Do you guys know how pissed all of the animal rights activists will be if they found out about this?" The question was met with silence, numerous eyes staring at him and judging.

"Just do it."

>   
>  Brick by brick by brick by  
>  Brick by brick by brick by brick...  
>  Skeletons  
>  Skeletons  
> 


	2. Paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptive violence/gore as well as rape.  
> Lyrics are: Give Me Back My Life by Papa Roach.

>   
>  All the walls coming down around me  
>  I know that I’m fucked up and infected  
>  I’ve been hiding in the fear rejected  
>  Thank God that you finally found me  
>  Cause you got to get me out of here  
> 

The skin was warm, muscles tensed as the blade slipped under the skin. The flesh shivered, body instinctively trying to move away as the chains above clattered a sharp reminder. _There was no escape, the werewolf didn't have the option of fighting his way out of this._ The realization was enough to send the bile racing up his throat and Stiles swallowed the vile liquid quickly. _Just do it._ The phrase echoed around, words rattling in his otherwise empty consciousness. _Just do it, just do it, just do it._ The blood was starting to trickle down the blade, the metal surface guiding the liquid to his fingers. It was hot, full of life and a bright crimson and _it was wrong_. The stickiness was gluing his fingers together, marrying flesh with steel as the shocked digits grasped the weapon.

"Deeper." The word was barked, numerous eyes blinking a silent approval as Jeremy strode forward. Stiles blinked, swallowing nervously before trying to shy away from the hunter. Rough hands covered his own, forcing the blade back into the wound before shoving it in deeper. The blood was flowing, escaping from the werewolf's body while it had the chance. It was determined to get to the ground, its deep red dripped off of both sets of hands and snaked down forearms. "Now, bring it up. Drag it along the spine until you reach the base of its neck."

 _Its._ Stiles frowned, "His." The correction left him before he could think better of it, mouth set in a firm line of disgust. "He's a man. He _feels_ and he doesn't deserve this." Fury was raising its ugly head, ignoring the alarm bells that rang in his head. _Don't provoke him_. 

"It..." The knife was pried out of the teenager's grasp, "it doesn't have the humanity to feel, something you would do well to remember." The hunter hummed, lips pressed together tightly as he studied the muscular back in front of him. "This.... this is the important part." The blade shredded the smooth skin that covered the alpha's shoulders. The ragged flaps were shoved to the side, a bloody hand gesturing for Stiles to come closer. "Make your wolf fly."

>   
>  I can’t take anymore  
>  I don’t wanna to breathe, I don’t want to die  
>  I can’t feel, I’m paralyzed  
> 

The blood was making it hard to focus on what he was doing, his hands slipping multiple times. Derek was quiet for the most part, jaw clenched so tightly that Stiles could hear the werewolf's teeth grinding together. "I'd have been screaming like a bitch before it even started." The confession was hallow as a red towel was pressed into the teenager's hands. Fumbling fingers rubbed against the fabric, desperate to rid themselves of the blood that clung to them. The towel was wrenched out of his grasp, the sudden removal made Stiles flinch, instinctively putting Derek between himself and the threat. There was a huff, the sound broken and exhausted; and it made his stomach flip. It was then that he realized that he'd been hoping for, no _counting_ on Derek being unconscious.

Chains rattled dully, bare skin pressed against his own and Stiles pulled away, a frown worrying his face. "No, you don't get to do that." The opened flesh in front of him started to grow blurry and an angry hand reached up to swipe away the liquid clogging his eyes. "You.... you don't get to tell me that everything is hunky-dory over there." Another puff of air answered him, smaller and less friendly. 

_R.I.P. Derek Hale, full of attitude and sass to the bitter end._ He waved a hand, as if the thought was tangible and could be brushed aside. The knife cut through muscle, blade catching as the tissue fought back, refusing to be severed. The small whimper that sounded when the blade managed to slice through the muscle tore at his heart. Up until now, Derek had been silent, his body flinching and trembling but silent. Stiles froze, a hand ghosting over the unmarred skin of the alpha's shoulder. He wanted to touch the man, to tell him that he hated this and that they were going to find a way out. _Alive_. 

Stiles' vision was blurring again, knife clattering against the ground as his fingers forgot how to function. He was supposed to be at home, a textbook spilled out over his lap with notes scattered over his bed. He should be worrying about his grades, complaining about how his chemistry teacher was a dick and trying to woo Lydia. He snorted, the sudden sound abrupt in the otherwise silent chamber, _like I have a chance with Lydia fucking Martin._ He'd been trying to get her to notice him for close to ten long years. 

When he looked up Jeremy was standing in front him, heavy mouth turned down in a scowl. "What?" He meant for the question to be harsh, to try and elicit a reaction from the hunter. Its only then that he realizes that he can't hear Derek breathing, that the werewolf's body is slack. _Shit_. He shouldered past the hunter, heart hammering in his chest before he slid to a stop in front of his friend. "No being selfish, _we are getting out of here alive._ We as in both of us, you and me..." Stiles felt his voice give out, throat working furiously as pressed his fingers against Derek's neck.

The pulse was faint but it was there. "Let him down!" The snarl tore itself from him, its fury directed at Jeremy as he carefully began to wrap his arms around the werewolf's waist. "And get some clean towels, I can't..." His voice was shutting down, drowning his thoughts as vocal chords rebelled. "I can't make a wolf fly if the wolf is dead."

A low murmur passed through the circle of hunters, eyes flickering over the boy and wolf before one of them nodded. "Very well." The voice boomed as the man stepped forward. Fingers snapped and Jeremy quickly produced a set of keys. "Make sure to keep them company tonight."

"Yes sir."

>   
>  I’ve been sick and disconnected  
>  I’ve been loving like I’ve been neglected  
>  All the walls coming down around me  
>  And you got to get me out of here  
> 

There was something beautiful about the way the teenager handled the werewolf, all doe eyed and apologetic. At the same time it was sickening, his stomach churned at the thought of how tainted the kid had allowed himself to become. Associating so openly with creatures usually ended in heartbreak, he'd been there and done that. Jeremy frowned, long strides bringing him closer to the pair, a sad smile twisted his lips when the teenager stepped in front of the werewolf. _He was still trying to protect it_. "Relax kid, I'm just letting him down. First lesson in flying is _falling_."

The cuffs clicked, releasing their grip on bloodied wrists, their owner slumping to the ground with a low moan. The sound itself was gorgeous, shaking him to his very core and he licked his lips, feet closing the distance. "Towels are in the bin." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, rough hands reaching down and grabbing the werewolf by the skin flaps. The loose flesh tore, yielding under his grip as he hoisted the creature to its feet and he was rewarded with a low whine. 

"Stop, please." The request was tiny, floating over to him from the corner.

"Right, where are my manners?" The sneer was cruel, twisting his face into a snarl before he let go of the werewolf. The thing slammed into the ground hard, the raw flesh of its back hit the cement first, and the scream that followed was.... _enticing_. He watched, fascinated, as the boy's face turned white, eyes flying over to the writhing figure with horror. "What? I let him go." The words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the kid abandoned the towels in order to dart forward. Fury reared its ugly head, a guttural noise tearing itself from deep within his chest as his hands snagged the back of the boy's shirt. Jeremy wasn't expecting his feet to slide out from under him, or for the kid to hit the ground as hard he did. The light brown eyes were gazing up at him, pupils blown wide with shock as a knee shoved itself into his stomach. 

The attempted assault was weak, undoubtedly because the teenager had a concussion, and Jeremy smiled. The only noise in the chamber was his own heavy breathing, body eager and excited as he pulled the younger man closer to him. "Your wolf is out of commission." The words left his lips in breathy rush. Delicate hands pushed at his chest, desperately trying to shove him away. "I would suggest you behave... unless you like it rough, _Stiles_."

>   
>  I’m not taking this tonight  
>  Give me back my life  
>  I can’t breathe I can’t fight  
>  I don’t wanna feel like I’m alive  
>  I’m not taking this tonight  
>  Give me back my life  
> 

"No!" The denial forced itself out Stiles' mouth in a ragged groan, his hands pounding frantically against the hunter's chest. "No, no, no, no...." The rambling broke off as fingers slid down his pants, feeling and grabbing before they found their prize. His body stiffened, the sudden contact unwanted as Jeremy squeezed in an attempt to stop his thrashing. "De-" The fingers had removed themselves from his pants, opting to wrap around his throat. _This wasn't happening._

### Flashback

"If someone is ever trying to pin you to the ground you can't just wiggle around and hope to escape that way." The alpha snarled, eyes assessing every move the teenager did. "You have to hurt them, Stiles. If you think you're up to it, headbutt them." The hazel eyes were calculating as the werewolf watched the two kids grapple with each other. Scott had volunteered to be Stiles' sparring partner but Derek had quickly dismissed the notion. The beta was good at controlling his strength but it didn't take much to injure a human. 

"And if I can't?" The question was panted as Stilinski tried to throw Allison off of him. The huntress didn't even look like she was trying, face calm as she wrapped a slim leg over his chest.

"Then you bite them. It won't taste good, but its better then the alternative." Derek's tone was serious, "Just.... don't bite Allison."

### End Flashback

 _Bite him, bite hard._ The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Derek, snapping and demanding him to do its bidding. _Bite to hurt, aim to hurt before he hurts you._ He felt stupid, mouth open in an imitation of a snarl, white teeth flashing a warning. It probably would have been more intimidating if he had fangs, but for now he would have to make do without them. 

"That was cute, but you know that you are _human_ , right?" The man sounded amused.

" _Derek_!" The rasping plea for help left him breathless as Stiles felt his shorts being yanked down. "De-de-erek!" A rough hand wrapped itself around his dick, stroking and pulling roughly. 

Jeremy _laughed_ , the sound filled with disdain. "You're actually trying to get that heathen to help you?" He leaned down, voice dropping into a low whisper. "Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but I'm pretty sure that the last I checked, your pet wasn't even breathing."

A hand moved up his body, exploring things that no one had ever been allowed to touch before settling over his lips. _Thanks, asshole_ , the thought was vicious as Stiles sank his teeth into the offending flesh. The fingers were yanked away, a muttered curse floated above him before the digits were taking hold of his hair. His head was raised off of the concrete and out of the corner of his eye he could of sworn that he saw Derek stir. He didn't have to time to question it as his skull made contact with the ground and everything went dark.

>   
>  I know I’m a walking contradiction  
>  I’m the truth that you wish was fiction  
> 

" _Derek!_ " The voice cut through the fog, sharp with fear. His wolf whined, ears tucked against its head with worry. Dragging himself out of the depths of the darkness was _hard_ and the effort left him feeling exhausted. He felt his fingers twitch, nails trying to dig into the concrete. _Up, get up_ , the wolf urged. Derek wanted nothing more than to argue, to tell the wolf to fuck off and stay gone. _I can't._ The reply was broken, claws retreating back into the beds of his fingernails as he sagged. _I can't._ "De-de-erek!"

The voice was higher this time, breathing harsh as the words grated out of their owner's mouth. _Stiles_ , the wolf supplied the name, urging him to get to his feet. _What was Stiles doing here?_ The kid didn't belong here, shouldn't _be_ here. There was a squeak as sneakers sought to gain traction and failed. Then another voice entered the conversation, cruel and harsh. _Pet?_ The wolf snarled, offended by the insinuation as the alpha heaved his weight onto his forearms. Moving turned out to be the worst thing he could do, and his body was quick to reprimand him. The tattered muscles in his back _screamed_ at him, the nerves firing off information like their existence depended on it. He wasn't sure if the gasp emanated from himself or the struggling duo on the ground. 

_Pinned, Stiles is pinned._ The realization took his breath, shock rocking him as the smell of sex began to fill the air. _No._ Chest vibrating in a silent snarl, the werewolf forced his arms to straighten, fury supplying him with a much needed rush of adrenaline. _Not Stiles_. Derek went rigid, letting the wolf take over as his body slowly began to change. _Can't take it all the way_ , his wolf sounded apologetic, _not enough energy_. He shoved the comment to the back of his mind, stopping the effort that his body was still putting into the healing process. _Healing can wait, just shift!_ The teenager went limp, head cracking against the cement and Derek growled. The rumble was low, hesitant at first before scaling into a roar.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Somewhere further off in the prison, a werewolf whined as she cowered against the far wall of her cell. _The alpha was angry; this was a call for war._ She could hear her brothers and sisters snarl in response. The noise was an impressive melody of notes, and she smiled when she saw the guards start to tremble. Limping to the front of her cell, she joined in the howling.

>   
>  And this heart isn’t known to hate me  
>  I just want to disappear  
>  I’ve been on a self-inflicted mission  
>  To destroy everything I’m given  
>  Thank God that you finally found me  
>  Cause you got to get me out of here  
> 

The hunter froze, hands pausing in their manipulation of the inert body beneath him. "Hale." He fought to keep his voice level, to hide the fear that must be rolling off of him in waves. "How nice of you to join the party. Tell me, how does Stiles feel about bestiality?" Another low growl answered him, and he didn't dare to turn his head and look. "I find it to be.... invigorating." Jeremy licked his lips, boots squelching in the pool of blood as he shifted. If he hadn't known any better, he would of thought he'd been thrust onto the set of a low budget horror film.

The creature in front of him shouldn't be able to stand, no matter how wobbly, and its eyes shouldn't be full so of hate. _It doesn't feel, it doesn't have the humanity to feel._ His scathing words from earlier echoed around his head. He flinched when a _thud_ shook the building, howls of victory sounding against the sudden patter of gunfire. The distraction was all the hellish wolf needed, and he watched its spine move, the sight morbidly fascinating, as it launched its broken body at him.

>   
>  I can’t take anymore  
> 

The flesh was soft and pliant under his jaws, teeth ripping through the muscles and tendons like they were butter. _Kill, maim, hurt._ The wolf chanted, savagely shaking its head, ignoring the hunter's cry of pain. Bone snapped, there was a soft thrumming as tendons were severed and then the arm was free. Derek dropped the limb, disinterested as the fingers twitched in shock. Something connected with his spine, trying to wrench the damaged bones apart. _Heal, must heal,_ his wolf begged, a low whine slipping from his throat. He ignored the plea, body twisting until he was able to clamp his jaws around the offending object. A vial smashed against the ground, empty and sinister.

"S...st.." Jeremy was gasping, swallowing thickly as he stared into the red eyes. "-upid... est..." 

_Wolfsbane_ , the bitter taste was already entering his mouth as the poison raced through the hunter's bloodstream. Derek whipped his head to the left and bone snapped, ligaments tore and muscles disconnected. His antagonist was screaming, eyes wide with horror as he stared at his remaining arm. It swung, hanging by a tendon in a desperate attempt to stay attached to the hunter's body.

>   
>  I don’t wanna to breathe I don’t want to die  
>  I can’t feel I’m paralyzed  
>  I’m not taking this tonight  
>  Give me back my life  
>  I can’t breathe I can’t fight  
>  I don’t wanna feel like I’m alive  
>  I’m not taking this tonight  
>  Give me back my life  
> 

It was the screaming that roused him, the sound high and penetrating as Stiles' head throbbed. Jaw clenched, he forced himself to roll over, a startled hiss escaping him when exposed skin touched the wetness saturating the ground. _Blood, blood an-.... no._ His stomach lurched, expelling what little he had eaten since arriving at the prison with a gruesome splash. His fingers were numb as they fumbled with the waistband of his shorts, yanking the clothing up as quickly as he could. The voice was talking, low and triumphant as the snarling quieted to a low rumble. The silence that followed was blissful, and he flinched when another scream was ripped out of the man's throat.

"Der?" He tried to form the werewolf's name, eyes hopeful as his vision started to focus. Everything seemed to stop, the black shape, _Derek_ , turned to look at him. The wolf's tail wagged hesitantly before stiffening when Jeremy moved. The hunter was saying something, taunting and cruel as he scrambled away from the wolf. His movements were odd, choppy and labored. Stiles let his eyes wander, widening when he spotted the arm. _Derek had ripped the guy's fucking arm off_. His gaze fixated on the limb, mind reeling as he tried to put things together. The wolf was moving again, rump turned to him as it stalked closer to the hunter, flashes of white showing through torn flesh. _Bone_ , his brain supplied as his stomach began to dry heave, disgusted by the revelation.

>   
>  You took my pride  
>  You took control  
>  There’s nothing sacred anymore  
>  Give back what’s mine  
>  Give back my soul  
> 

The gurgling was pathetic and try as he might, Stiles couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for the hunter. The teenager watched, a feeling of relief filtering into his thoughts as Jeremy twitched. _Relieved over a person's death_ , guilt shook him, demanded that he apologize for the thought and he waved it aside. _The wolf, call the wolf_ , the voice nagged at him. "Derek." It barely passed as a whisper but the black ears flicked back as the wolf listened to him.

He blinked and the werewolf was dragging him, red eyes worried. _Sleep, he must have fallen asleep._ Stiles frowned, pushing off the ground with his feet in attempt to help the wolf. A low growl reprimanded him, telling him to lie still before the grip on his hoodie relaxed and the teenager felt himself lean against a wall. His friend was panting, tongue pale as it lolled out of his mouth while his legs shook. The alpha looked nervous, ears flicking back and forth as he listened to the war raging above them.

When Derek's legs finally decided to give out, Stiles did his best to ease the werewolf down to the ground gently. Finding a place to put his hands proved to be more challenging then he thought it would be; the thick fur was coated in blood. At least it _was_ until the fur turned to skin and the body he was trying to lower grew considerably bigger. Slumping lower against the wall Stiles grunted as he flipped Derek over, letting the man use him as a cushion. The alpha offered him no help, his body practically putty in the teenager's hands. 

By the time they were settled, the werewolf was sprawled awkwardly over Stiles' lap, chin resting on the human's shoulder. Tiny puffs of air blew against the side of his neck, and while it was incredibly intimate, the boy found himself taking comfort in the contact. Derek was unconscious, body shivering as it tried to fight off whatever was ailing it. Stiles frowned, fingers working smooth circles on the nape of the werewolf's neck. He hoped that the motion offered some kind of relief and decided to believe that it did. He needed it to, blinking furiously as his eyes welled up with tears. The moonlight was dim, barely filtering in through the tiny window but it did offer light, the power had cut out some time ago. Split flesh glinted at him, accusing as blood continued to well out of the rift. _The rift he made_.

"I'm sorry." His fingers paused, taking a moment to comb through the older man's dark hair. Stiles felt his breathing stutter, chest shaking as the sob tore itself from him and he bit his lip. Voices were calling for him, desperate and searching. _Help._ The others were here, they would take of everything and he would get to go home. _Home_ , the word made him feel small as his body tried to curl around Derek's. His dad would be furious, would threaten to cuff him to a squad car but Stiles knew he wouldn't mean it. Not really, at least. 

Another sob ripped through his frame, shoulders shaking as he tightened his arms around the alpha. His chin lowered, settling only when it made contact with the werewolf's shoulder and Stiles was pretty sure that his tears were making paths in the grime covered skin. The sight only encouraged the sobs, beckoning them forth until the teenager was unable to pretend that they were controlled. They didn't help with his headache, the throbbing grew until Stiles was sobbing because it _hurt_. 

He was vaguely aware of shoes slapping against the concrete, of the horrified hisses that his friends made and found that he didn't give a damn. Stiles only protested when Derek was lifted away from him in an undignified squawk, vision swimming as the hands started to move him as well. He was pretty sure that Scott was saying something along the lines of, "We're here, shit Stiles... its okay, I've got you," but couldn't muster the energy to reply before he allowed the darkness to claim him.

>   
>  I don’t wanna breathe  
>  But I don’t wanna die  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait, but I'm aiming for quality.... I would like to thank Kaysco for staying up with me at night in order to help write this chapter. I really hope that you guys enjoy, and **feedback** is desired. Even a ":)" would make my week. 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as **ao3-tigerion**.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not yet finished and I'm only estimating that it will span 3 chapters.  
> Your support is treasured and hoarded. Your comments make me squee and kudos make me smile.  
> I really like to squee, so will you help me squee?


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